In Memoriam Feminae Viridis
by Ken-Zero
Summary: No longer on hiatus. Kigo. This is a response to a KP Slash Haven challenge which is just a twist on an old idea. Summary: It's So the Drama all over again, except now Kim has to deal with the consequence herself.
1. Chapter 1

This is a response to a challenge on KP Slash Haven. It's also a bit more dramatic than I'm used to writing, so if it seems awkward in places, now you know why. Thanks to those there that liked the cookie. Hopefully this whets the desire for more of them.

In Memoriam Feminae Viridis

By Ken-Zero

* * *

_It really wasn't supposed to be like this…_

Kim Possible sucked on the knuckles of her right hand as she stared at the sitch that had rapidly gone way out of her control. The sting of her tongue playing over the split flesh helped her focus her mind, keep it from wandering…keep her from giving up and letting the helplessness and sadness and feelings of self-hatred take over.

Again. She'd done it _again_. She'd gone and gotten so worked up, angrier than ever, and the bantering didn't help, only increased the heat that boiled all those feelings together under the rigid control of her composure, increasing the pressure until finally she snapped and…and…

Kim shook her head violently; there would be time enough for introspection and other personal activities later. For now, though, she had two priorities: saving her own life—and that of the body lying in front of her right now—and doing everything in her power to make the sitch right again.

That was what she did best: make things right. After all…she could do anything.

Clinging onto that last thought like it was a lifeline to sanity, Kim collected the body into her arms, mindful of its dead weight—she winced at the term; _Really bad choice of words,_ she commented in her head—and making sure to keep her movements as smooth as possible lest she inadvertently damage something else…unlike the apparently-completely-advertent damage she'd already done. It slowed her movement speed by quite a bit, but in Kim's mind right now, the payoff was well worth it.

Deep booming noises and shaking floors indicated she was running out of time, but she found what she was looking for: the exit. As quickly as she dared she passed through it and into the darkness beyond, and not a moment too soon: behind her the structure continued its slow self-demolition, eventually crumbling down to large piles of rubble and twisted bits of steel poking out. By that time, though, Kim and her passenger were far enough away that the falling of the structure meant nothing to them.

Outside it was deep night, and the cloud cover ensured that there was little-to-no moonlight to assist her vision. There was heat at her back as the building slowly smoldered, but the night air was relatively cool, as it should be for the end of summer. Distant sounds of sirens heralded the approaches of emergency vehicles. After examining the area for anyone else, Kim lay the body on the ground, again moving as slowly and gently as she could. The face on the body was completely relaxed save for the line of blood down one side, but even that was dried and flaking off, which relieved Kim, if only a little bit. On that face was an expression Kim had never once expected to see gracing it; she actually halfway expected it to default to its usual scowling appearance.

Nothing else appeared out of place on that body, but Kim wanted to leave nothing to chance; she prodded its limbs with her fingers, feeling nothing out of place. She put her ear to its abdomen, then its chest. She could hear nothing out of the ordinary; in fact, the heartbeat sounded strong, to her. Then again, anything that wasn't dead would probably sound strong to her, in Kim's current state of mind.

She sat back from the body, her feet under her, and took in the scene again. She could feel tears welling in her eyes, and as much as she told herself to hold them in she just couldn't. The guilt, the worry; everything hit her at once, and this time her willpower simply wasn't enough to hold it back.

She stayed that way for some minutes, weeping quietly at the evil she'd wrought; she couldn't think of a more appropriate description for what she'd done.

A noise interrupted her crying, and she felt her pants vibrate briefly as the distinctive four-note chime of her Kimmunicator sounded again from her pocket. Sniffling, she wiped her face off and pulled it out, hitting the key to receive the call but leaving the screen off. "Go, Wade," she said, her voice watery but otherwise clear.

"Just making sure you got out okay," the voice of her eleven-year-old supergenius said. She heard tinges of worry in it, and that just made her feel worse.

"Yeah, I did," she said, her voice catching on the last word so half of it came out in something of a squeak. She cleared her throat. "Look, Wade, I…I need to go," she said.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," she assured him. And really, she would be. Eventually.

"Okay, Kim." It was obvious he didn't believe her, but it was equally obvious he wasn't going to push her into saying anything, for which she was quite thankful. She ended the call and put the device away and was on the verge of sitting there and moping again when a plan suddenly came to mind.

Drying the rest of her tears, she picked up the body again, treating it a little less like glass and a little more like an unconscious body, and made her way over to her own vehicle. She lifted her victim slightly, enough to allow her to rotate her wrist and gain a small amount of use from her hand, and opened the door to her car, lifting the gull-wing door until the hydraulic piston took over and opened it the rest of the way. She deposited the body on the back seat, arranging it as carefully as she could, even buckling it up to keep it from sliding around. Kim climbed into the driver seat and shut the door, heaving a shuddering sigh as she simply sat there for a second.

Finally, though, her usual persona resurfaced. Kim buckled herself in, twisted the ignition fob, and felt the engine of the Sloth rumble to life. She once again sent a mental thank-you to the Tweebs for their super-souping of her car all those months ago as she took off, careful to keep her driving smooth yet still moving with all possible haste. She made good progress, the modified engine enabling her to cruise along at speeds that would make even that deranged mechanic Motor Ed proud.

Inside, Kim was barely managing to keep her turmoil at bay. Her usually-indomitable will had cracked back outside the ex-lair, and even now it was barely back in place. But now Kim Possible had a mission.

* * *

Kim was extremely glad for the fact that her mother's car wasn't visible in the hospital's parking lot. Much as she loved her mother, and knew that she was one of the best people in the universe for the trouble she thought her passenger was having, the situation would be far too awkward—_awkweird, even_, she thought with a mental chuckle—to entrust to the older Possible. Besides, it's not like Anne Possible was the only neurosurgeon at Middleton General Hospital, nor was she the only excellent one. She was the best, true, but the others were no slouches. In fact, there was Dr. Randy, Dr. Joseefson, Dr. Bruback, and…

She shook her head free of the rambling thoughts. _Dr. Bruback's probably my best bet; he's the one Mom always says could take her place…_ So deciding, she parked the Sloth in an empty spot, taking advantage of the late hour and her desperation to park in a handicapped spot. _Technically, one of us _is_ handicapped…_ She practically ripped the door open, urgency gnawing at her insides, and unbuckled the still-unmoving body before lifting it free of the back seat and shutting the door. Adrenaline still fueled her movements, that and worry, and though she knew she'd be feeling it tomorrow it didn't bother her at all.

She marched inside the emergency receiving area, cradling the body against her own, receiving several surprised stares from people both working and staying at the hospital. Security guards also made moves her way, but the glare she shot at them halted them in their tracks—well, that and recognition, she guessed. It didn't matter, though. She had a mission.

Now she was by the elevators. This part of the hospital she knew well, for she'd entered it enough herself over the last few years. Her destination, she also knew well, for that was her mother's territory and Kim had been part of more than a few "Take Your Son/Daughter to Work" days. She waited patiently after pressing the appropriate button, and when the doors to the elevator slid open she boarded in silence, pressed the eighth-floor button in silence, watched the doors close in silence, and rode up in silence.

The ding sounded and the doors opened. Kim stepped out onto a floor almost devoid of activity, in stark contrast to the emergency receiving setting she'd just left. She turned left, walking past several observation rooms that all had open doors, until she found what she was looking for: an office. The name plate by the door read "Karl Bruback, M.D.," but Kim knew he had several other certifications, just like her mother. He just couldn't fit them all on the plate in a reasonably-sized font.

She knocked on the door. She knew it was unusual for a hospital to have a doctor's office, especially one near patient's rooms…then again, Middleton General was an unusual hospital, with an unusual staff.

Several seconds later the door opened, and the head of a man with very little hair—and what was left of it was salt-and-pepper—and small glasses on his face poked out. When he saw who was knocking he blinked several times.

"Miss Possible?" he asked.

Kim nodded, a small sense of relief flooding her. Her muscles were starting to ache from holding the body in her arms for so long, but she held on determinedly.

"What can I do for you?"

"Help her," Kim said simply, gently hefting the body. Its ultra-long straight-black hair almost reached the floor even with half of it bunched between Kim's arms and her passenger's head. The green-and-black suit still looked mostly pristine, except for a small spot of dark red on one shoulder. And her passenger's greenish skin looked slightly pale, or at least more so than usual.

"Isn't that…" Dr. Bruback began.

Kim nodded. "But that doesn't matter now. I need you to help her."

He blinked again. "Very well," he said, slipping into the role of medical professional instantly. "Tell me what happened while we walk."

And she did, explaining in halting sentences how the fight had progressed.

* * *

"_Are we having fun yet, Princess?"_

_The taunt was delivered with its usual sarcasm. Shego stood there, paused in the middle of their usual fight, her hands still aglow with their plasma charge. She didn't even look like she was breathing hard. Kim, on the other hand, felt winded. Of course, having a day full of dealing with the Tweebs, arguing with her parents again about her college decisions, going at it with Bonnie, who still apparently hated Kim even though high school was over, and then having two missions in one day, would do that to her._

_Ron, though, seemed to be having a ball dancing around Drakken's death-trap style defenses. Pits? A monkey-fueled leap cleared them easily. Lasers? Dodged by a hair's breadth, and disabled by flinging, of all things, bananas into their focal lenses. Why bananas? Kim didn't quite want to know, but she figured it had something to do with the fact that their last mission had been somewhere in South America. Spinning tops of doom? He didn't have to worry about those, since they were Señor Senior, Sr.'s trademark, and Drakken hadn't "outsourced" for that particular item yet._

_Kim could hear all that going on behind her, but her attention was still focused on her _true_ nemesis. True, Drakken hatched the plans and caused Wade to call Kim to save the world, but it was Shego who actually was the challenge. It pissed Kim off to no end that they were still at it, even after having helped save the world themselves, which meant she was angry to begin with. That meant she wasn't so focused in their fight, not as much as she should have been, and Shego was practically wiping the floor with her, which only made her angrier._

_She didn't respond to the taunt, at least not verbally; she instead flung herself at her enemy, and their fight began anew. Kim could tell Shego was enjoying this; the look on her face said as much. She could also tell that Shego wasn't taking advantage of Kim's emotional state at the moment, which helped cool her down a little bit. After all, insulting as it might seem that Shego was going easy on her, at least it gave her a chance to get back in the game._

_Shego smirked inwardly as she noticed Kim's movements improving. She could tell her verbal jabs were hurting as much as any foot or fist that might make it through the teen's defenses, and that was, of course, all part of her style; however, she wanted Kim at her best to provide the right sort of challenge. She'd seen the cheerleader upon her usual dramatic entrance, and thought she looked a bit worn-out, which was something of a surprise. Usually the Princess looked like she had the energy to take on the entire base by herself, even if it was late at night, but not today._

_They separated again after several minutes, and now both were breathing heavily. Kim wanted to do nothing more than drop the villainess and her employer to the dirt, go home, and sleep the next day or two away._

_Shego felt similarly, though she'd prefer to just have the buffoon hit the self-destruct button so they could all go home and prepare for the next time. But that meant, for now, she had to keep fighting Kim._

"_What's the matter, Shego?" Kim called over. "You're as tired as I am, and _you_ didn't have another mission before this." She faked a gasp. "Are you getting old?"_

_Shego smirked; her Princess was a fast learner in the taunting department. "What about you? Anxious to go home and get down and dirty with the buffoon?"_

_She saw the shock on Kim's face, feeling some of it mirrored within herself; where had that come from? Almost as a rule, Shego kept the taunting to surface-level attacks, picking on Kim's skill, her choice of dress—which Shego secretly appreciated, even as on the surface she derided it—her moves, her career in general, high school…the list was lengthy, but nine times out of ten—and point-nine times of the one remaining—Shego absolutely refused to make it _that_ personal. The last time she had done that she'd ended up with a huge electrical tower doing its best to short-circuit her brain. And now…well, she knew she'd better be way on top of her efforts if she wanted to avoid a fate like that again._

_Kim's expression quickly cleared to anger, though it was touched with sadness. "No, Shego," she said softly, and the green woman could hear the barely-controlled rage in her voice. "You drove us together, and then you drove us apart, and I have yet to properly thank you for that."_

"_Uh oh…" Shego wasn't too sure she liked the sound of that, so she resolved to _keep_ from being "thanked properly" lest she regret it later. _

_The fight began again in earnest. This time Shego wasn't sure what she'd done wrong—well, what she'd done wrong to Kimmie—but whatever it was, it must have been horrendous, because the last time Kim had fought like this was that night of the Li'l Diablos._

_Shego ducked a punch and quickly put her arms in front of her face as Kim tried to ram a knee into it; she rolled backwards from the force of the blow, putting some distance between them. Kim stalked forward, and Shego took the opportunity to feint a jab at her ribs before trying a sweep-kick. The redhead cleared her outstretched leg easily, though, snapping out with her own leg in an attempt to clock Shego across the head. The thief twisted aside, her hands dropping to the floor to support her sudden change in center of mass, and Kim's leg harmlessly flew over her head._

_The follow-through wasn't so harmless; Kim's other leg descended in an axe kick that caught Shego on the shoulder. She grunted as the kick landed; it almost popped her arm from its socket, the force was so great, but Shego pulled herself together and got some distance back._

_Desperation without fear; that's what Shego felt right now. She had to get Kim to back down, or go away, or something, before the girl did something she'd regret. It looked like Kim was in full unstoppable mode now, so Shego figured it was time for drastic measures on her own part._

_She lit her hands; Kim barely slowed, if at all. She threw a pair of blasts at the ground right in front of Kim, but the light show and resulting explosions did little to deter the force of destruction. That was okay; she didn't want the hero stopped, she wanted her distracted. She did it again, this time aiming for Kim's torso. Kim twisted out of the way, and Shego charged and leapt, aiming to tackle Kim, wrestle a bit, and pin the wiry girl._

_Except Kim had other ideas. She saw Shego coming from what seemed like a mile away and grabbed her outstretched hands; she saw the look of surprise on Shego's face as her plan went to hell; she felt cold satisfaction as she began to spin; she saw the worry creasing the villainess' face as Kim's muscles contracted further with anger, bringing her in closer and thus speeding their rotational velocity; she watched the worry grow as she let go and flung Shego across the room…_

_She saw, and heard, the sickening crunch as the side of Shego's head impacted the corner of one of Drakken's steel workbenches._

_Instantly all that bottled rage evaporated, leaving her feeling much like she had that night a year ago, standing by the ruined Bueno Nacho, watching the jailers cart an unhurt Drakken and a badly-damaged Shego off to jail. The same sense of regret, of remorse, of failing to be the good person she tried so hard to be, welled up inside her._

_She fell to her knees, and her fist hammered the cold concrete floor. Somewhere in the fight she'd lost her glove, and the impact did little to help her mood; in fact, she could feel that the skin on her knuckles had split from imperfections in the floor._

_Just then, Ron called her name before yelping as Drakken chased him again. An automated voice called out the beginning of a five-minute-long self-destruct sequence, but Kim barely heard it. She had just one thought running through her mind at that moment:_

It really wasn't supposed to be like this…

* * *

Dr. Bruback listened as professionally as he could, but this was something a bit foreign to him. Wasn't one normally _supposed_ to beat the hell out of one's enemies? Then again, he saved lives, not the world, and the only "defeat" he knew was to lose a patient.

He looked at Kim and saw a little girl scared spitless over something she'd done—something she hadn't realized she had the power to do—and wanting someone to fix it and make it all better. So in his most reassuring tone, he told her, "Let me get a gurney, and we'll take a look, okay?"

Kim nodded, her expression still pensive, as the neurosurgeon appropriated one of the moving beds, upon which she carefully laid the body of her adversary. Shego was still breathing, and the pulse was as strong as it had been before, outside Drakken's lair, so she wasn't afraid of the green-skinned woman passing away…but she was afraid of whatever damage she may have wrought by swinging her into the bench like that.

Kim lost herself in her mind as she walked with the doctor to an examination room. She could acknowledge that she'd lost control, that her darker instincts had taken over when Shego mentioned Ron earlier, and she'd almost delighted in the chance to hurt the thief physically for the emotional hurt inflicted on Kim. The bench, though…that noise kept coming back to her, making her feel sick to her own stomach.

She hadn't meant for that. Her darker self had almost reveled while watching Shego arc through the air towards it, but as soon as her head hit Kim had wanted to rewind time and take it all back. Beating her was one thing…hurting her was another, a line Kim always tried to avoid entirely, much less toe.

She was snapped from her reverie by Dr. Bruback announcing they'd arrived. From what Kim had told him, he knew to check only her head and neck, since those were the areas most likely to have been affected. Sure enough he found it: a small indentation on the right side of her head where there really ought not to have been one, behind the temple but above and in front of her ear. It was covered in dried blood, but he couldn't feel much of a cut anymore. He parted her hair and was privately a bit shocked to see only a thin scrape remaining from what should have been a fairly significant gouge wound.

He looked over at Kim. "I'll need to give her a functional MRI to figure out if there's been any significant damage," he told her, his tone sounding grandfatherly. "From the looks of it, though, the worst I can say is she'll have a concussion, since it looks like she didn't hit as hard as you thought."

Hope stirred within Kim; she wouldn't let herself off the hook that easily, though. "She heals fast," she warned Dr. Bruback. "That might screw things up."

He nodded. "Still, I doubt even she could repair bone quickly enough for me to misdiagnose something like that. This all happened inside an hour ago, right?"

"Yeah," Kim answered. His response to her warning allowed that little bit of hope to graduate to a larger little-bit. "Can…can I stay with her?" she asked.

"Well, when we get her in the machine, you can watch the scans with me," he offered. "But I don't anticipate there being any surgery involved, so she should be back in a room in no time."

Kim nodded. She was so tired, but at the same time completely wired. How could she let herself sleep when she'd done something so potentially…well, evil?

The answer to that question came when Dr. Bruback wheeled Shego down to the imaging room. Kim appropriated a second chair while the doctor started the tests, making his obligatory doctoral "oohs" and "mmhmms" while watching the colored scans on the monitor. The test took long enough, and the heat of the room was just enough, and Kim was tired enough, that she dozed about six minutes into the test, fighting it every step of the way but eventually just giving in.

Dr. Bruback looked over at Kim when he heard her slump in the chair, and smiled softly when he saw her totally knocked out. _Poor kid's been running on adrenaline alone for probably the last two hours_.

He turned back to his scans; the machines showed a relatively high amount of activity at the site of the injury, but for now he dismissed it as simply her natural healing at work, delivering what it could to patch up the bone. He considered a CT scan as well, since cranial injuries rarely brought good news, and he wanted to know if she had any bone fragments that may have resided in the brain itself, but based on the activity that he could see with the MRI, that was a possibility he wasn't that worried about.

The computer beeped half an hour later, the scan finished entirely, and Dr. Bruback thought about waking Kim up. He decided against it, though; leaving her in the chair for the time being, he instead removed Shego from the machine, replacing her on the gurney.

Then he got an idea. He wheeled the mobile bed into the doorway of the viewing room, picked up the daughter of his favorite co-worker, and laid her onto the gurney as well, before carting them both to one of the rooms in the recovery ward. He made sure the room had two empty beds before calling a nurse in to help get Shego out of her catsuit and into a hospital gown, get the IVs and other monitors in place, and get her situated, before lifting the sleeping Kim and depositing her on the other bed.

Then, in violation of hospital policy but in deference to the teen hero's probable wishes (and, quite possibly, to her mother's, as well), he bade them good night and closed the door. After all, he reasoned, the monitors would alert them if something went wrong, but given the results he'd seen earlier, there was nothing to fear.

* * *

When Kim awoke and saw the unfamiliar surroundings, her first instinct was to wriggle out of whatever was binding her and get out of there. Two things prevented her from doing that: one, she found she _wasn't_ bound; and two, the plastic curtain, bent-in-half bed, and small, wall-mounted television clued her in to being in a hospital room.

Groggily she levered herself up into a sitting position, wondering why she was in a hospital room, of all places. She wasn't all that injured, that she could tell; her knuckles still hurt, and she had a couple of bruises, but was otherwise okay.

Her gaze fell on the room's other occupant, and she was roughly and instantly reminded of why she was where she was.

Shego was in the other bed, sleeping seemingly peacefully in spite of the tube in the back of one hand connected to a saline bag. She noticed the green-skinned woman was in a hospital gown now—thoughtfully, a green one had been provided—and when Kim looked closely, it seemed the wound site had been cleaned. She couldn't find any blood on her at all, which was good. And when Kim probed the site with curious fingers, she found, much to her surprise, that the "dent" from the night before was almost nonexistent. _I know she heals fast, but that's just ridiculous_.

Her relief at Shego's healing was interrupted by a knock on the door to the room. She turned to see who might be at the door and was privately shocked when her mother walked in, dressed in her usual lab coat.

Dr. Anne Possible regarded the curious scene with merely a raised eyebrow. If it weren't for the look on Kim's face, one would be excused for thinking that she'd just been caught in a rather compromising position with a secret lover, or something. The anxiety, though, drove all thoughts of humor away.

"So this is where you've been," Anne said calmly, like it was an everyday occurrence.

"Y-yeah, Mom," Kim answered. Her throat felt dry, which is why her voice cracked.

"Are you okay, Kimmie?" Concern for her daughter was evident in her voice.

It only made Kim feel guiltier. "I'm fine, Mom," she mumbled. "Is she?" She turned back to face her sleeping nemesis.

Anne shrugged. "As fine as she can be while comatose," she answered. It evidently wasn't what Kim was looking for, because Kim's face screwed up into something that Anne didn't like seeing there. "Kimmie, do you remember what Dr. Bruback said last night?"

Kim shook her head.

"You won't need to worry about a thing. She doesn't need surgery; we did a CT scan this morning and didn't find any bone fragments. We don't even need to stitch her scalp shut, since it healed on its own so quickly. When she wakes up from this, you should be back to trading blows in a week."

Relief washed over Kim, and she felt some of her self-loathing fade. "Thanks, Mom. I still have to make it up to her, though." She thought for a second. "Can I stay here?"

Anne seemed to consider it for a moment. "I don't see why not," she said. "You're not up to anything right now anyway." There was faint disapproval in her voice, but her expression was gentle.

"Thanks, Mom," Kim said again, and Anne left. Kim had to sigh; her parents hadn't exactly taken it well when Kim had decided to take a year off between high school and college, but she needed the time to decide what to do with her life. She couldn't follow either of her parents' paths; that would please one and disappoint the other. Mutual disappointment, as she saw it, was at least equal to that. Also, she had considered majoring in psychology, maybe going on to law school after that…but she felt like that was something else she was _supposed_ to do. Like Global Justice was tugging her that way, trying to mold her instead of let her be the person she wanted to be. Of course, that also meant she had nothing to choose for herself.

She'd briefly considered maybe being a music major, but as much as she had improved her singing voice it wasn't worth the hassle. She'd never been much of a musician anyway, in spite of her personal motto. Literature was out, too, as she'd never gotten much pleasure out of the "classics" in high school anyway. Maybe she'd be a mathematician of sorts; that was safely away from both her parents' fields, yet intellectually stimulating enough that she could feel enticed while doing it. Besides, she liked mysteries, and mathematical problems made for some awesome mysteries…

Lost in her own musings, Kim failed to notice much going on in her surroundings. She was so zoned out that a nurse came in to check on Shego and Kim didn't even register her presence.

Hours passed; Kim obeyed her body enough to go get lunch, but she was right back by Shego's side as soon as she could be there. She eventually nodded off in her chair, slumping forward and leaning on the edge of Shego's bed, arms crossed under her head as she dozed.

Her sleep was fitful and restless as nightmares assaulted her; she dreamt of the day before, of the mission that had gone so badly. She dreamt of Ron getting vaporized when Drakken actually did something right, and the blue-skinned mad scientist cackled evilly when he realized his roadblock was no more; she dreamt of herself, failing to escape from a death trap in time and drowning and suffocating and being cut to pieces, and yet somehow being awake for every one of those gruesome fates; she dreamed of what she'd done, throwing Shego across the room like that, except this time the woman smashed into the edge of the table even harder than reality, snapping her neck and killing her instantly, and Kim reveled in the feeling, the heady exhilaration of holding the power of life and death in her hands, of giving in to her anger and letting her dark side reign while the real Kim hid away from reality forever.

For some reason unbeknownst to her, the part of the dream that saddened her the most was the one where she killed Shego. The angry part scared her to death because it could happen, and almost had…but when Shego died, it _saddened_ her beyond belief. Even more so that the part where Ron had died.

She was pulled from her personal hell when the feeling of a hand on her head penetrated the haze of semi-dreamland and brought her back to reality. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to see wetness on her arms. She wiped her cheeks with the palm of one hand before looking around to see who was on her. Suspecting her mother, she checked behind herself first, but the other red-haired Possible was nowhere to be seen. In fact, _nobody_ was back there…

But that meant…

Slowly she turned back to the bed, hope warring with her current pessimistic state, until she saw who had been petting her head.

"You're awake," she said breathlessly.

Shego regarded her with half-open eyes, though one eyebrow was quirked upwards. "Unless you're still dreaming, I think I am," she responded.

Kim couldn't help it; she felt the tears coming and let them fall as relief once again flooded her being. She leaned over the bed and wrapped herself around Shego's waist. "Oh thank God," she bawled, muttering the phrase over and over again as she clutched tighter onto the green-skinned woman.

"Hey, easy!" Shego protested when Kim's grip got too tight. "I'm already in here for something, best not make it two somethings."

"Sorry," Kim said, finally getting herself under control and sitting back, smiling softly. It felt like it'd been days since she'd done that. "I'm just happy you're awake."

Shego nodded slowly. "Well…not that I mind the show of affection, but…just who are you anyway?"


	2. Chapter 2

_In Memoriam __Feminae __Viridis  
_

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I forgot to toss this into chapter 1, but I like it better that way. Nothing to slow you down. I own none of these characters. They all belong to Disney.

--

The sound of the words leaving Shego's mouth was the only thing in the little room for the next several seconds; there wasn't even the sound of a drip from her intravenous bottle. Kim's stomach felt like it fell from her abdomen, struck her knees, and settled somewhere in the hospital basement. She tried to speak, but her voice didn't work, so her mouth moved silently.

That same eyebrow quirked again on Shego's face. "Well?" she asked.

"You…you don't remember?" Kim finally managed to speak. Her voice, once again, was unstable.

"Should I?" Shego challenged.

Kim nodded while sniffling. "Yeah…we've known each other for about four years now." She didn't have the heart—or the mindset—to mention that they'd been near-mortal enemies for almost that whole period. _Except for when she was Miss Go…and that other time, when we helped her brothers…and during graduation, when we had to fight together, and…_

Realizing she was mentally rambling, Kim snapped herself out of it just in time to hear Shego ask, "So you know who _I_ am then, right?"

Something between a sob and a laugh escaped Kim right then. "Shego," she supplied. "You're Shego. And if you're pulling my leg with all these questions, I…" Her voice failed again; she was _going_ to finish with, "…am gonna beat you for it later," but given the current situation, she was loathe to even lay a hand on the green woman.

Though left unspoken, the semi-playful threat was easily-enough understood. "Nah, you look like the one who broke, not me," Shego said idly, "and there's something about kicking someone while they're down that really doesn't appeal to me."

Kim gave her a soft smile from her seat at the edge of the bed. "Look, Shego," she began. "I…"

"Yes?" Shego drew the word out over a few seconds when Kim stopped speaking.

Realizing she didn't know what she was going to say next, Kim just shrugged and shook her head. "Nothing, I guess. I don't know where I was going with that."

"That makes two of us, then," Shego said, lying back in the hospital bed. "So did I always hate hospitals, or is this a recent development?"

"I…don't know," Kim replied honestly. "That's one bit that I never knew."

"Oh," she said simply. Her eyes closed, and as Kim watched her breathing slowed to the deep rhythm of sleep.

Kim chose that moment to pat her hand, eliciting a small smile from Shego in her sleep, before getting up. Her back protested the change in position—she _had_ been in the chair since the early afternoon anyway. _Speaking of which…_ Kim craned her head to check the wall clock in the small room and was shocked to see that it read three-twenty-two. A check of the windows demonstrated that it was _quite_ dark outside, which meant it was three in the morning. She didn't know what time she'd managed to fall asleep in the room, but that rest had apparently lasted for hours. She checked her purse, which was slung on the chair back behind her, and grabbed a couple of dollar bills from her wallet. With one last look at the sleeping villainess, she left in search of a vending machine.

--

Cracking one eye open, "Shego" saw that she was finally alone. _Shego_, she mentally snorted. _The hell kind of a name is that?_

Glancing at the sides of her hospital bed, she took note of the monitoring equipment set up to make sure anyone would know of changes in her condition. She was pretty sure, though, that they tracked only bad changes…when she'd awakened, there'd only been that weepy red-haired girl there to greet her, not a nurse, which was odd. She was in a hospital; there were supposed to be at least nurses on staff all the time, right?

She grinned a bit in memory of that girl. When "Shego" woke up, the first thing she noticed was that her bed was a bit imbalanced. _It took a while to even realize I didn't know my own name_, she thought, privately amused by her apparent sense of priorities. She'd watched the girl sleep for a bit, but given the expressions crossing her face, whatever dreams she was having were not the most pleasant ones ever. That was confirmed when she saw tears start to fall.

She'd felt an odd urge then, a desire to comfort the girl she didn't even know, so she had reached out a hand and rested it on her head. Almost unconsciously she began to stroke her hair, even going so far as to run her fingers through it. The feeling had been nice, even to her…

Then she woke up, looking confused, wiping her eyes, and "Shego" had had another sudden and very odd urge; this one was the temptation to simply go "Aww" at how adorable the expression was. The girl had blinked at her a couple of times in apparent disbelief before attaching herself to "Shego's" waist and earning her tag of being weepy. Their little conversation had followed, in which "Shego" had found she had more questions than she initially thought. The girl had done an artful job of not answering the first one, though, which was why "Shego" still didn't know what _her_ name was.

She heaved a sigh as she tried to sort through her mind and take stock of what was there. A lot of the bits she tried to think on slipped out of her mental grasp like wet soap; the second she thought she had something, it was gone. What really frustrated her were the things she _could_ remember, trivial bits of information that were of absolutely no consequence. She knew, for example, that her skin was green for real; she couldn't remember why, or how, or if it had always been that way. She also knew that her favorite colors were black and green, though the same limitations held on that idea; she didn't know why they were, or how long they had been, or anything like that.

She couldn't remember her own name. She couldn't remember anything about her family—she had to have a family, or at least parents, she knew, but were they still alive? Was she an only child? Were her parents still around? She didn't know how old she was, but by the feel of her body she couldn't be _that_ old.

The never-ending questions began to make her angry. She felt like her blood was boiling in her veins. Her fingertips began to tingle; the sensation spread to the whole of her fingers. She brought her hands up; the feeling was close to an itch now, and she scratched, feeling like her bones needed the relief instead of her pale green skin.

_Pale green_. She stopped scratching abruptly, simply staring at her hands, and the parts of her forearms she could see. The anger drained away, and with it went the tingly, itchy sensation in her hands. Her curiosity began to take over, wondering at the color, and her imagination began to fill in details of the how and the why.

_Maybe somebody assaulted me with a green permanent marker years ago and the color seeped into the living layer of skin_, she thought, and the mental image of such an attack almost made her laugh. Strange as the scenario sounded, she _was_ green, so she wouldn't rule out such an occasion as that.

Impatience suddenly began to gnaw at her, demanding she _do_ something. Lying in bed all day was certainly not that attractive a proposition, especially since she didn't _feel_ all that broken. At the very least she could walk around the place, get herself some sort of exercise. She glanced over at the IV bag on its stand next to her bed, and with a mental shrug decided it was hardly necessary now. She was awake, alert, and from the feel of it, quite able to handle solid foods.

_Not that hospital foods are all that appetizing anyway_.

"Shego" briefly wondered if that thought came from experience or hearsay before deciding it didn't matter. It was time to stand up, walk around…and leave, if she could.

She gripped the IV line and catheter in her hand and pulled gently; it was painful, and it felt like she had something slithering around her insides as the short length of plastic tubing pulled free from her blood vessel, but the uncomfortable feeling was over quickly enough…and as she watched, the blood following it stopped flowing almost immediately. It was interesting, to say the least; she'd expected to need a bandage for the little hole.

She shivered as she levered herself out of the bed and onto the floor; the frigid hospital air slipped around the skin on her bared back thanks to the hospital gown she was in. The bed had been nice and warm…but confining. And lack of memories aside, "Shego" was absolutely sure that no person liked being that confined.

Besides, she barely noticed the chill now. It was an odd sensation, but just as odd was its familiarity—the knowledge felt like it was tickling the inside of her forehead, but it refused to congeal into anything real.

She slid open the door to her room and peeked her head out, one hand bracing herself on the doorway so she didn't lose her balance, the other holding her rather impressive mane of straight-black hair back.

Well, it was impressive to her, at least.

Seeing nobody, which was hardly a surprise given the hour, she crept into the hallway, her bare feet making absolutely no noise as she padded along. She stayed against the walls, peeking around corners when it was necessary.

She got about four hallways away before she realized two things: one, it was absolutely absurd that she was sneaking around a hospital like that. _What's the worst they're gonna do, put me back in the bed?_

Second was, _How the hell am I doing this?_

She didn't have to wonder long before a semi-familiar voice called from behind her.

"Shego?"

She turned, acting as nonchalant as she could with that nagging feeling of being half-naked in the hospital garb. That red-headed girl from before was standing there, a couple of brightly-colored, wrapped items in her hand, a curious look on her face.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

Shego cast about for some kind of answer that would make some sense and not land her in trouble. Unfortunately, the only one that she had that would fill those was the truth.

"I wanted to go for a walk," she said simply.

--

"I wanted to go for a walk," Shego answered after a second.

Kim blinked. For a brief second, the mental image of her arch-nemesis in both her catsuit and a dog's collar popped into her mind and threatened to make her giggle uncontrollably, but she shoved it aside as quickly as she could, writing it off as a product of her less-than-rested mind.

"Ah hah," she said instead, as neutrally as she could. She'd watched Shego creeping down the hallway like her usual, rogue-ish self, and had been absolutely fascinated with the motions involved. _So graceful,_ she thought, _and those moves…like water. No wonder no one could ever hear her_. The incongruity of an amnesiac Shego sneaking around like nothing was different hadn't struck her yet.

Shego just continued to stare at her, not saying anything. Kim decided to break the silence herself. "I went to get a snack," she said needlessly, holding the items in her hand aloft.

"I see that," Shego replied, and Kim mentally berated herself. Here they were, standing in a hospital hallway, staring each other down like a fight was going to break out—and the only thing she could say was that she had snacks. _Brilliant, Kim. Why not tell her the sky's blue while you're at it?_ She took a step toward Shego, but when the green woman took a step backwards, Kim stopped. She pouted slightly. "Where are you going?"

"Going?" Shego echoed. She looked at her legs, surprise written all over her face as she saw how her body had apparently tried to back away without any input from her at all.

"Yeah," Kim said, regaining some conversational confidence. "Last I knew you were zonking out, not out exploring."

The surprised look on Shego's face faded away, relaxing back to its normal, "Go away kid, you bother me" look. "I had to get away," she said. Then she shook her head, a bemused look on her face. "Why am I even telling you this? I don't even know you."

"Actually…you do," Kim replied sheepishly. "Pretty well."

"Do I? You never did tell me your name."

"I…" Kim's mouth snapped shut as she thought back. "I didn't, did I?"

"No. Doy."

The familiar word made her smile a bit, but Kim actually answered. "I'm Kim. Kim Possible."

"Kim Possible," Shego repeated slowly. To Kim, it looked like she was thinking it over, because her lips kept moving even though no sound came out. Shego remained silent for so long that Kim began to worry that she'd broken her or something, and she took another hesitant step forward, then another when Shego showed no reaction.

Suddenly Shego snapped her fingers, her gaze snapping upward with equal speed. "I've got it!" she said.

Kim stopped moving and she felt hope swell. _Maybe this sitch is going away faster than I thought…_

"Your parents thought they were sterile, then you came along," Shego said triumphantly.

That hope Kim had felt died a quick, painless death as reality asserted itself in its usual cruel fashion. She sighed. "No, Shego," she said tiredly, suddenly glad of the infusion of sugar still in her hand. "Kim is short for Kimberly. I was named for a great-great-aunt or something way back on my dad's side. Almost everyone in my family has a name with some sort of 'in' sound in it." She plodded forward, partly disappointed that her name didn't do something miraculous like bring total recognition to Shego, and partly mad at herself for thinking something that cartoon-like would happen. Shego didn't move, so when Kim made it to her she offered her one of the snacks in her hand.

Shego accepted the proffered sweet thing without protest, which Kim was glad for; she was half-expecting the injured woman to refuse it, or at least be very suspicious about it. That didn't happen, though, which told Kim there was still no recognition; they'd fought each other far too often for Shego to simply take something Kim was willingly giving her—that is, if she were "all there."

"That's…pretty corny," Shego said finally, unwrapping the snack—pop tarts—and taking a bite. When she swallowed a look of bliss crossed her face.

"You okay?" Kim asked. It was a bit of a weird reaction.

"Fine!" Shego answered loudly. "Just glad for solid food."

After a few minutes of standing there watching Shego inhale the pop tarts like they were manna from heaven, they resumed walking, except this time Shego wasn't trying to sneak around. Kim kept asking little questions here and there, mostly about how Shego was feeling; she could tell, by the end of the walk, that she was starting to drive the other woman mad. By the time they reached Shego's room again, Kim was back to mostly silent, dwelling once again on the circumstances that brought the two of them to this point.

Shego must have sensed her darkening mood, because she heaved a theatrical sigh and stretched hugely, mostly for show. "Well, this has been a thoroughly _fascinating_ walk," she declared, "but I think I'd better get back in before I get in trouble."

Kim cracked a grin. "Yeah, you scamp. Who said you could be up and about anyway?"

"I did." She shrugged.

"Figured as much," Kim said with a resigned shrug. "Well then…can I stay with you?"

Shego watched her for a minute, and Kim started to feel decidedly uncomfortable for asking such a question. Before the fight, before…_it_, she knew Shego most likely would have simply laughed in her face. Now, though, she didn't say anything, and Kim's sense of unease grew until Shego finally shrugged. "As long as you don't wake me up," she responded.

This time it was Kim who sighed—in relief.

--

Neither girl woke up until close to noon the next day.

Dr. Bruback was in the room when "Shego" awoke, and her movement roused Kim from her rest, as she'd resumed her earlier position of sitting in the chair but leaning on the bed. The doctor was going over some chart or another while she roused herself.

"Good morning," he said cordially.

"Meh," Shego answered. "Was morning earlier."

"Indeed," he returned dryly. "I must say, your recovery is rather remarkable. We weren't sure when you were going to wake up from that coma."

"Coma?" she echoed, turning to look at Kim, who in turn couldn't bring herself to meet "Shego's" eyes. The pale-green woman narrowed her eyes. "How long?"

"By my estimate, about twenty-six hours," he said, and "Shego" blinked.

"That short? Can you still call it a coma then?"

Dr. Bruback flipped back to the first page of his papers and settled them under his arm. "Technically, to call it a coma, you need four total conditions: the patient does not awaken, the patient does not undertake any voluntary actions, the patient has no regular sleep/wake cycle, and the patient does not respond normally to pain or light." He chuckled. "Kim here could have socked you as hard as she could, and you still wouldn't have woken up."

"Shego" snorted. "She doesn't look like she could do enough damage to a houseplant."

The doctor's reply was cut off as Kim jerkily got up from her chair and practically bolted out of the room.

"What was that about?" In spite of her status as a recently-awakened, previously-comatose hospital patient, "Shego" was quite sure of her powers of observation, and she had definitely seen tears on that redhead's face as she left. Puzzling as that reaction was, her own was even more so: she wanted to chase after her and calm her down, maybe even lend some comfort, or at least a shoulder to cry on.

_Why do I have that urge? I hardly even _know_ her!_

Dr. Bruback sighed. "I'm sorry; I think I touched a nerve."

"That was _terrible_," his patient complained, rolling her eyes. At his confused expression, she gestured to the clipboard he was carrying. "It says you're a brain doc on the back," she explained. "So that line…"

"…was completely unintentional," he defended himself, though he wore a faint grin. "And they say doctors don't have senses of humor."

"Wherever yours is, you should probably take it out," she retorted.

He chuckled, then consulted his board one last time. "Well," he announced in that tone of voice used when making a final announcement, "you're as healthy as you're going to get while staying here. It's obvious you're in fine physical shape, and laying on a hospital bed isn't going to help that."

"_Finally_, someone around here who makes sense," she said, though with half a smile on her face. "So I can go?"

"Not quite yet," he said. "I have a colleague whom I want to have look at you, just to make sure everything's going to be okay. She'll probably let you go, but a second opinion is always more valid than having just one."

"Shego" considered it. "I guess you're right," she conceded.

The doctor nodded. "Of course I am," he replied, his face taking on the same grin she'd had a few seconds ago. "Sit tight; she'll be in as soon as I can find her." With that, he nodded to her and left.

"Shego" was alone in her room. She sighed and tried to get comfortable in the bed, waiting for her mythical second doctor to arrive. It didn't work very well.

While she lay there, she tried once again to go over the events since she'd awakened. First it was waking up to that girl…Kim. Then the weird feeling that she'd known some things, some people, that she'd seen today, but couldn't remember anything exact. Her irritation earlier, making her hands feel like pins and needles to a gigantic degree. Sneaking around the corridors of the hospital like she wasn't supposed to be there, which was silly. Kim finding her in the hallway…

"Shego" frowned a bit. If the girl had seen her sneaking around, maybe she'd have some answers as to why she'd been doing it, or how she knew how to, even as she _didn't_ know. Then again, she hadn't given any indication she'd been watching, leading "Shego" to believe that Kim had simply walked in at just the right time to catch her while she wasn't moving.

She frowned again. "Kim" was far too short a name, and "Shego" had a distinct feeling that, given her behavior at the hospital, she'd be seeing a lot of the younger girl in the near future, whether she wanted to or not. _Names with one syllable are so…boring_, she thought, _but "Kimberly" is _way_ too old. I'm no ancient hag to be calling her that._

"Shego" smiled wryly. Just like earlier, she reflected, in that she didn't know her own age but by the feel of her body—and from the doctor's comment—she was in good shape and thus couldn't be _that_ old.

The door to her room opened again, breaking into her musings, and a tall, thin, red-haired woman in a lab coat entered the room. Her blue eyes held no expression that "Shego" could read, but she certainly looked professional enough.

Then it hit her, and she squinted a bit at the doctor. _Replace the eyes with green, make her hair longer a bit, and she could be Kimmie's clone. Or…_

"You're her mother," she stated matter-of-factly.

Dr. Anne Possible, for that was indeed who it was, blinked a bit in shock. She'd read Dr. Bruback's reports, and from what they were able to infer—plus from what Kim had told her when they'd run into each other in the hallway early that morning—it was clear that Shego had amnesia; specifically, retrograde amnesia. It explained why she didn't know who Kim was, or what her own name was, or anything, for that matter.

It also explained why she was so surprised when Shego said that.

She'd also seen Karl's scans of her brain activity, as well as those of the injury that had done it, and she was privately impressed. Shego certainly did heal far faster than anyone she'd ever seen before, and Anne knew she had her comet powers to thank for that. She only hoped that those same powers extended to getting her memory back—not out of any sense of altruism or respect for Shego, but because it meant she would be out of the hospital sooner rather than later.

For now, though, she had a job to finish…and a patient who, amnesiac or not, could probably get whatever information she wanted with a minimum of effort, especially if she decided to light her hands on fire like she did with Kimmie all the time.

"Yes…" she stated unsurely.

"Good to know I can still call 'em," Shego said, laying back. "By the way—your name isn't some strange play on impossible, too, is it?"

Anne blinked again. "No…no, it's not," she said, slowly realizing that, for now at least, Shego was going to be causing nobody any problems—at least, not until she remembered that that's what she did for a living. And quite possibly for fun. "My name is Anne Possible, and I'm here for your last examination, Shego."

Shego nodded. "Examine away. The sooner I'm out, the better." She did note that Anne sounded like she knew her, which lent some credibility to Kimmie's claim that she was named Shego, too. And as Anne was older—which was probably unfair but realistic—Shego trusted her word more.

Anne couldn't agree more, but she wisely stayed silent; if Shego started asking questions, it would only frustrate her, since Anne had no answers. Instead, she checked the patient sheets hanging near the bed before doing a close inspection of the injury site.

"What're you doing?" Shego asked as Anne's fingers pressed on the right side of her head, in front of her ear.

"I'm _squeeshing _your _head_." Anne's voice sounded a bit distracted as she worked.

Shego snorted. It was the best she could do, with her head in the doc's hands. Inside, though, she was cracking up; who'd have expected a doctor with a _real_ sense of humor?

Anne was still a bit surprised at just how rapid Shego's healing factor was, but decided not to push it any further. She stepped back into Shego's field of view. "I'm sure Dr. Bruback already told you that we want you to come back in a month for another scan, to see how your brain is doing," she said. Shego shrugged. "In the meantime, there's a few prescriptions you'll have that might help you."

"Might?" Shego echoed.

"Might," Anne repeated. "Amnesia is never a sure thing. We're still not quite sure how the brain does what it does with memories, so all we can do is give it all the bloodflow and oxygen it wants to see if that helps it along. We all hope you'll recover fully, though…and since you've only been here a day, even with the type of injury you came in with, I'd reason that your chances are better than most."

"Thanks, doc," her patient said.

--

Shego sighed as she got out of the hospital bed for, hopefully, the last time. The nursing staff had, of course, brought the requisite wheelchair up to her room; it was waiting outside, per her request. She changed into the clothing given her for the occasion—a pair of sweatpants and a zippered sweatshirt, along with her underwear—and blew a goodbye kiss to her bed before walking out and settling in the wheelchair.

She didn't look to see who was going to push. She didn't particularly care, either. All she wanted at the moment was to have her command fulfilled: "Get me out of here."

Before the last word even left the air she was suddenly cruising forward, heading toward the elevator and, thankfully, the outside. Shego glanced back and up at whoever was driving, and was a bit shocked to see Kimmie there, looking almost as anxious as she felt herself.

Neither said a word until they reached the outside, whereupon Shego vaulted out of the wheelchair and stretched hugely. She turned back to Kim, smiling slightly. "_God_ I needed out of there," she said, and Kim returned her smile.

"Yeah, I hate hospitals, too," she said, "which is probably strange since my mom works in there."

"I know; I met her."

"You did?"

"She was the one who said I could go, but that I needed to come back in a month for another scan." Shego shrugged.

Kim was silent for a moment. Then: "Sorry to run out on you earlier today…" She spoke so low that Shego wasn't sure she _was_ talking until the fourth word was out.

"What _was_ that all about, anyway?" Shego asked.

"I'd…rather not talk about it right now," Kim replied, looking away. "I just wanted to apologize for leaving you alone."

"Ah." Shego shrugged; it wasn't that big a deal, especially since Kimmie had come back. At the moment, that counted a lot in her book. She told Kim as much, and the younger girl smiled again.

"Well…I had an idea waiting for you to change. You don't have anywhere to stay, so come stay with m—with us!" she squeaked. Her face reddened. "Um. If you're okay with it, that is."

Shego raised an eyebrow. "Don't I have a family? _Somebody_ had to spit me out, and they can't be old enough to be dead."

Kim thought for a second. "I know you have brothers…and under normal circumstances I think you would sooner sleep in the ocean than go back to them. I could…get a hold of them if you want."

Something—Kim's reluctance, maybe, or maybe it was that damnably adorable pout—told Shego that would probably be a bad idea. "No, thanks," she said finally. _I'll probably regret that later, but I think I'd break in two if she looked any cu—more upset_.

"So you'll come?"

"Yeah, Kimmie, I'll come."

Hearing the old pet name made Kim feel immensely better already, even if there was no connection there yet, so it was with a bigger smile than she'd had in the last couple of days that she said, "Let's go home."


	3. Chapter 3

_In Memoriam Feminae Viridis_

By Ken-Zero

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine; they belong to Disney.

--

That night, Kim heard some of the most feared words in her young life.

"Kimberly Anne, you have some explaining to do."

Kim Possible winced; she _hated_ it when her parents used her middle name like that. Not like she wasn't already intimidated enough, confronted by both her mother and her father with their arms crossed and frowns on their faces; the Middle Name Factor made her feel all of nine years old again instead of her actual eighteen.

"Well, missy?" Dr. James Possible asked.

_How can I even begin? _Kim wondered with not a little amount of despair. "Look…Mom, Dad, I…I had to."

"You had to what?" Anne pried.

"I had to…bring…" _God, the frowns aren't moving. This is _so _frustrating! Why can't they just let it be?_

They made no response, instead continuing their parental double-teaming. The guilt Kim felt over Shego's injury only added to her mounting frustration, until she finally couldn't keep it in.

"I _had_ to bring Shego home with me, _okay_?" she vented. Her hands involuntarily clutched into fists. "Look, it's _my_ fault she ended up there, and it's up to _me_ to make it right. To do that, I have to keep an eye on her until she gets better. Since I'm still here, it made sense to bring Shego here. Why, did I do something _wrong_?Does it not make enough sense?"

She felt her stomach contract almost painfully when her snippy response caused her parents to only intensify their frowns. _Great…_so_ not what I wanted to do._ Before they could say anything, and with the feeling of tears prickling her eyes, she said, "I…I'm sorry…it's just…" She closed her eyes before the tears could spill out, her head bowing down to match.

The feeling of a hand on each shoulder made her look up at her parents. Both were still distinctly unhappy-looking, but neither had the frown they were sporting just a second ago. "Kim, I know you're under a lot of stress right now," her mother said gently, "and I know you feel responsible for what happened—and rightly so—but you do still live here with your parents. We would have appreciated some warning, or even asking for permission."

Kim made a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob; she felt her shoulders shake heavily just once. "But it's Shego…you wouldn't have said yes."

She felt each hand tighten on her shoulders, but it wasn't painful. It was…supportive. It felt nice. "Of course we would have," her father said warmly, comfortingly. "Kim, she's been here before. You know that. She's also recovering from being in the hospital. That would make it doubly yes. We aren't concerned about her _being_ here; we're concerned that you took the liberty without at least informing us. We do live here, too. We like to know what's going on in our own house."

When Kim nodded, her parents drew her into a hug, and she sniffed once as she returned the gesture. A minute later they released her, with her father moving his hand from shoulder to head and messing up her hair. Kim squawked and ducked away from the offending limb while trying to smooth her hair back down; her parents chuckled.

"Go get her settled in, Kimmie," Anne said, ushering her daughter off. Kim was relieved to hear the nickname again, and, after drying her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, headed up to her room to do just that.

When she was out of earshot, her parents looked at each other worriedly. "Kimmie seems to be taking this harder than usual," James said quietly, turning his gaze back towards the stairs to her bedroom. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Anne replied, sliding her arms around her husband's waist and laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm worried, too…these last couple of days have really been bad for her. I should have told her to ease away from that second mission."

James chuckled. "You know she would have found a way to go, regardless. Still, I think this will help, in the long run."

"…How?"

"Control, I guess, if what you told me is accurate." Indeed, Anne had called James while he was at the Space Center, informing him that both she and Kim would be at the hospital for a while because of a "certain patient's" quickly-healed serious injury. "Kim has to know just what she's capable of, if she lets herself fly off the handle like that. And she has to learn how to deal with the consequences."

Anne looked up at him, smiling faintly. "When did _you_ get so smart?"

He buffed his fingernails on her back, smirking a bit. "This old guy's a rocket scientist, remember," he said playfully. "I do have a few things working up in this ol' noggin."

Reminded once again why she loved her husband so dearly, Anne snuggled closer. "I still hope they both come out of this okay."

"Relax, hon. Anything _is_ possible for a Possible."

--

Meanwhile, upstairs, Kim was splashing a bit of cold water on her face in the bathroom to help wash away evidence of her emotional encounter. She looked in the mirror and blinked, a bit shocked at what she saw.

Her hair was a mess, still mussed from her dad and his antics earlier and generally looking worse than it did after a particularly windy skydive. She had thick, dark circles under her eyes from a few days of troubled sleep; she wasn't exactly lacking in rest, just _peaceful_ rest. Her eyes themselves looked dull. She looked…_haggard_ overall, and it didn't sit well with the normally cheerful girl. Then again, with the way the last few days had gone, she wasn't too surprised with how ragged she felt.

Sighing, she dried her face, grabbed Shego's catsuit from the dryer in the laundry room next door, and went into her room, only to be greeted by a…fairly unusual sight.

Shego was lying on her bed. That in itself wasn't so odd, but the pose…all curled up on one side, hands by her head, her knees almost touching her elbows, even _clutching Kim's Pandaroo_…

The teenager was only able to keep the "Aww!" in by sheer, titanic force of will.

--

Shego's eyes tracked Kim as she entered the room through the hole in the floor, but she made no move to get up from the bed. Everything about the piece of furniture positively screamed "Comfort!" Shego was of no mind to disagree.

When Kim had left a little while ago after escorting Shego up to the loft, then hearing the distinct noise of people arriving downstairs and leaving to greet them, the green woman had taken the opportunity to explore. Hey, she was naturally curious. The room was safely cut off from the rest of the house by means of the staircase leading up to its only trap door, and only the windows afforded any other chance to get in…or escape.

She had blinked. _Why am I thinking about trying to get away?_ She quashed the question before it led to any others; too many were popping up in her head for her to deal with at the moment. She'd been getting too frustrated by them; little bits of knowledge that she knew she knew, but they steadfastly avoided coming to the front of her mind to be recognized. Getting angry at it wouldn't solve anything, she knew, even though it still felt like the best course of action. Even that pins-and-needles feeling had returned to her hands at one point before she forced herself to just…stop thinking.

Continuing in her exploration had yielded a closet almost bursting at the seams with trendy, stylish clothing on one side and what looked like everyday apparel on the other. The shadows suggested the closet was deeper than that, though, so she'd pushed on through the clothes…

…only to stop suddenly at the sight of a white bodysuit with blue trimmings pinned up against the back wall. She hadn't known why; the jolt of nervousness sweeping through her was similarly inexplicable, but something had told her that the suit wasn't something to be trifled with. Looking away from it, she'd spotted several pairs of neatly-folded drab green cargo pants and equally well-folded black tops in a pile to the left, with similarly sized piles of purple and black clothing on the right. Four pairs of hiking boots occupied the floor space between.

The sight of the clothing had inspired a feeling of familiarity and excitement that quickly chased the nervousness away. Once again Shego had found herself unable to explain where they'd come from, once again she'd gotten frustrated, and once again she forced herself to just…shut it all out in an effort to make the discomfort in her hands go away.

That had led her back to the bed, reasoning that if she stopped looking her head would stop bothering her. She'd laid on it carelessly until a lump under one shoulder convinced her to reach under the covers…finding a small stuffed mutant that was well-worn with age and use.

And it _smelled_. Strongly. Of Kim.

Shego'd sighed and rolled onto her side, staring at the stuffed toy, wondering at its ability to keep her so calm.

That was when Kim poked her head through the floor.

Shego watched as Kim finished entering the room. The redhead had quite visibly blushed when she first looked in and locked eyes with Shego, and the pale woman felt a smirk tugging at her lips. Watching the girl move was something of a treat for Shego, because she was so smooth and sure in her movements that Shego was sure—

—_Kim flipped away, her cheerleading uniform staying pasted to her curves as she dodged a glowing projectile and a similarly glowing hand swipe, a whirl of purple and gold that righted itself on a counter before leaping backward, tucking into a reverse flip in midair—_

Shego gasped.

Kim was at her side in an instant. "What happened? Are you okay? Do you hurt?" She looked to be about two seconds away from trying to do a complete physical examination.

Blinking the mental image…the _memory_…away, Shego slowly looked over to Kim's eyes. "You're a…cheerleader?"

--

"You're a…cheerleader?"

Shego's words made Kim's heart seize in her throat. _Did she really just—_

The wondering look in Shego's eyes faded to an all-too-familiar smirk as Kim gaped. The teen simply stared, too stunned at the question. Either Shego had found something, or…or…

…_or her memory is starting to come back!_

That last thought jolted Kim out of her stupor, and she blinked down at the injured thief. "What makes you ask that?" she asked carefully.

Shego raised an eyebrow at her, the smirk staying in place. Kim turned to look behind her just in case…and let out a disappointed sigh as she saw one of her several trophies for the activity sitting on a shelf across the room from the bed. She stood back up, suddenly weary again.

Shego's next words stopped her cold.

"I remembered."

Kim whirled around again. "Really?" she whispered.

Shego nodded casually, rolling onto her back and stretching out…still holding on to the Pandaroo.

Kim had to turn away again, a blush creeping onto her face. She didn't _consider_ herself a prude, but it was still embarrassing…between Shego holding Kim's favorite Cuddle Buddy so possessively, and the open sweatshirt giving a free view of all that pale, greenish skin...

Shego blushed herself when she noticed what happened, relaxing and pulling the sweatshirt closed before offering a muttered "…Sorry," by way of apology.

Kim half-smiled; it was nice actually hearing an apology from the woman, even over something this small. She turned back, the blush still on her face. "I'm going to get you some clothes for tonight, but I think tomorrow we have to get _something_ for you to wear. You can't fit into my underwear. Well, my bras, at least."

Shego, her own blush having faded, cast a leering eye at Kim's chest. "I'll say," she confirmed, laughing when Kim blushed even harder and crossed her arms over her chest.

_God, she doesn't even know who she is and she _still _gets under my skin_. Still, she couldn't help but grin a little at Shego's mirth…and at the fact that something, no matter how trivial, had broken through whatever was holding her memories back.

A minute later she deposited a small pile on the foot of the bed. "You change; I'm gonna set myself a spot on the floor."

Shego stopped in the middle of reaching for the clothing. "Why the floor?"

"You need the bed, Shego." Left unsaid was Kim's vow to not let the injured woman out of her sight. She returned to rummage in a corner well-stocked with _stuff_.

"And? It's big."

This time Kim didn't freeze; she over-corrected while reaching in the pile for a blanket and ended up falling on her side with a heavy thump.

Shego lowered herself onto her stomach and looked over at the prone hero. "You okay? What's the matter, forget how to stand?"

Kim wasn't able to respond, though, her mind having practically shorted out over Shego's implicit offer. It wasn't embarrassment so much as shock over _Why's she want me in the bed? She's my _enemy_, even if I did almost kill her! Even if she doesn't remember…_

"Kimmie?"

Shego's voice snapped Kim out of it. "Uh…no, don't worry about it," she protested, her voice shaky. "I, uh…I move around a lot and I'd probably kick you out by accident or something."

"Mmhmm," the other woman responded. "C'mon. It'll be fine, I promise. I don't bite. Or do I? I don't remember…"

Staring at Shego like she'd grown a third head—this sitch went _way_ beyond only two heads—Kim belatedly realized the thief wasn't being serious about her last sentence. "Not that I remember," Kim supplied for her; she was too thrown by the weirdness to be anything but honest.

"Not that you _remember_, huh? And why would you know?" This time there was absolutely no mistaking the sly grin crossing her lips.

Fighting to control the rapidly rising blush, the redhead studiously ignored Shego's chuckles as she finished dragging her blankets and spare pillow to the floor next to the bed. "I'll be right next to the bed if you need anything," she told her firmly, quieting Shego's chuckles. "I'm going to change and be right back."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Shego drawled. True to her word, she was right there when Kim came back, though she'd changed as well into the oversized T-shirt and other garments Kim had provided. Kim had to admit that the dressed-down villainess looked absurdly cute in pajamas like that, and her next impulse was irresistible:

She walked up and tweaked Shego's nose.

When she caught up to what she was doing, she squeaked and practically flew across the room to the trap door, disappearing down through it with a hurried "Go to sleep gotta brush teeth morning say night to mom and dad!"

The dark-haired woman blinked in some shock; the little act hadn't brought up any familiar feelings at all, which meant that was something buried with the rest of her memories…or no one had done that to her in a very, very long time.

_But if we were…before…she should have, right?_ Not wanting to aggravate herself this late at night, Shego put as many thoughts out of her mind as she could and slid under the bed's covers.

--

Kim calmed her racing heart as she brushed her teeth. It was the perfect time for some internal monologue.

_What the_ hell_ was I thinking? I…I just _beeped_ Shego's nose! What the hell what the hell what the hell what the hell what the hell? I mean, she did look kinda cute, in the kiddie way, in my clothes, but still…what the hell? Gah, I don't know if I can deal with this. I hope she behaves herself tonight…I don't want to have to, I dunno, tie her down or something, but if she keeps on being so silly…_

_Silly…_

The word struck her almost like the cold water she used to rinse out the toothpaste. It was the _exact_ word Shego had used during her Miss Go tenure…except back then she'd had her personality altered by a device. She still had basic Shego inside, just switched her polarity to good from evil.

A device…affecting her mind…

Almost choking on the water, Kim's mind whirled as quickly as she did, racing downstairs to her parents to bid them goodnight—and threaten the Tweebs, her younger twin brothers, with certain bodily harm if they so much as peeked into her room overnight—before taking the steps three at a time back to her room.

She stopped short as she closed the trap door again, watching as Shego lifted the covers invitingly. "Coming?"

Kim shook her head quickly. "Not right now," she said distractedly. She held on to her idea, searching for a pen and paper. Finding the items she scribbled a note to herself before setting it down with a sigh of relief.

Shego watched her finish. "Why not?"

"Huh? Oh…no…" It took a second for Kim to remember what Shego was talking about, but she still shook her head, slipping into the makeshift bed on the ground. "G'night, Shego," she said idly, her mind on other things…like who she could ask about building some device to pull Shego's memories to the forefront of her mind and cure her amnesia.

"Night," the villainess called back.

Resolving to start looking up people who owed her favors tomorrow, Kim turned on her side and closed her eyes. The exhaustion and trauma of the last couple of days caught up fairly quickly, and she fell into a deep, thankfully dreamless, sleep.

--

Movement of the bed sheets and some subtle jostling woke Kim in the middle of the night; groggily she opened an eye and turned her head.

Shego had climbed in under the covers with her, joining Kim on the floor; the thief's eyes were still closed, though she'd managed to get out of bed, climb in with Kim, and put an arm under the redhead's waist from behind.

Kim was too tired to do anything about it. Telling herself she'd fix it in the morning, she turned forward again and went back to sleep.

Behind her, Shego smiled.

--

Doctor Anne Possible was a brain surgeon by profession, and a damned good one, at that. She was accustomed to mysteries and complexities, what with her field of work and all, and could take for granted that there were some times that the brain—indeed, the human body in general—looked completely broken but operated totally normally. Surprise was a quickly-surmounted obstacle for her; having patients come in with a ten-inch hunting knife driven into their heads, right between the halves of the brain, and yet being awake, lucid, and even conversational would do that to anyone.

Still, there were times that even she could be surprised by what she saw.

Like right now.

She'd awoken at her usual weekday time, intending to start a pot of coffee, but had gone to check on Kim and her erstwhile patient. Making sure to keep a light tread on the stairs lest she wake them prematurely, she'd gently poked her head through the trapdoor…and froze.

Kim was on the floor, facing the door, just sleeping away. That, in itself, was not so unusual, chiefly because of old sleepover habits. What _was_ unusual was she wasn't alone there; a second head, this one crowned by a mess of black hair, rested its chin in the crook of Kim's neck, and a pale green arm was flung over Kim's waist outside the bedding.

And Kim was _smiling_.

Almost a full minute after she first opened the door, Anne slowly backed her way down the stairs, letting the door shut with almost no noise. She padded back into the kitchen and thanked her body's muscle memory profusely as she got the coffee ready without a hitch; her mind was otherwise occupied.

_They were _sleeping_ together!_

She refused to think on that any further until she had the first cup of the morning fog-banishing liquid in her hands. Taking a seat at the kitchen table, she sipped from her cup, staring at the table top as though it would provide the answers she sought.

_Okay, Annie, think rationally about this one. First, they're enemies. Have been for years. Second, until a few months ago, Kim was dating Ron, and happily so. She'd crushed on guys before that. No sign that she's even attracted to girls. Third, Kim put her into the hospital a few days ago. While she was upset about it, that's not something that someone would do to their lover. At least, not on purpose…and from what Kimmie-cub told me, she most definitely did it on purpose._

_And yet...Kim was _smiling._ The bed looked unmade, so someone obviously got out of it to join the other on the floor. But who got out of bed, and why? And why didn't Kim separate them again?_

Anne continued back and forth in her mind for some time; each time she reasserted the reasons why the two girls upstairs shouldn't even be in the same room, let alone the same "bed," the fact of Kim's expression would jump right back to the front of the argument. She was probably ninety percent sure that Kim was straight as an arrow…but given this morning, that ten percent was starting to worry her—not because she would find it discomfiting, but because of Kim's own self-image. As much as Kim's heroing work meant to her, and in spite of (or maybe _because_ of) having two doctorates for parents—and younger twin brothers who were probably well on their own way to the same—Anne knew Kim took great pains to appear as "normal" as possible in her social life. That had been probably the cruelest aspect of high school…but now that that particular part of life was over, Anne had hope that Kim would allow herself a chance to appear as what was normal for _her_.

If that meant her daughter was gay…then so be it. _More power to her, I say._ Still, she sighed into her cup; something told her it wouldn't be that simple. _It might even be Kim herself._

Before she could ruminate any further, her husband came into the kitchen already dressed for his day. "Morning, Sunshine," he said in his perennially cheerful way, stooping to kiss his wife on the cheek on his way to the coffee pot. He didn't need the caffeine; he just liked how it tasted.

Belatedly he noticed Anne's thoughtful, almost pensive expression. His own brow creased as he watched her stare at the table. His own cup forgotten, James crossed the room and put his hand on her back. "What's the matter, hon?"

"Birds," Anne said distractedly. She blinked slowly as she looked up at him.

"Birds?" he echoed. Surely she wasn't so confused by the animals…

"…You know, like the birds and the bees?" When he nodded, she continued, "I think we may have to revise that to the birds and the birds…"

Incomprehension ruled his features until she sighed again and pointed a thumb at the stairs leading to Kim's loft. The confusion turned to surprised realization as he picked up on what she was talking about. "Kimmie-cub? You think?"

"I don't know, James." She leaned her head against his solid warmth as he moved his arm across her shoulders protectively. "I just don't know."

--

It was only a short while later that Kim stirred. She was almost disappointed at having awakened, given the early morning chill in the mid-autumn weather and how pleasantly warm and comfortable her floor-bed was. Why, it was almost like the blankets had completely molded against her, keeping her secure and safe and heated and content and…

The ticklish feeling of moving air on her neck made her turn, and her sleepy mind registered Shego's presence after a few seconds of staring at the thief's face.

_That_ cleared some of the cobwebs from Kim's brain quite quickly, and she almost cried out as she extricated herself fairly violently from both Shego's grip and the blankets. She stood over her door, panting as the short adrenaline shock wore off. Shego, disturbed by the sudden movement, opened her own eyes slowly. A hint of recognition passed through them, and she smiled lazily. "Morning, Kimmie," she greeted the redhead.

It was a few moments more before words came to Kim. "Shego!" she hissed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Of course, it was only right after she said that that the memory of Shego's entry in the middle of the night popped up.

"Being comfy," the green woman answered honestly.

"But this is the floor," Kim protested. It was obvious that, in spite of the shock, she still wasn't completely coherent.

"And? It had you, and you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

_"It had me"?! What the hell?_ "What do you mean, 'It had me'?"

"Me: bed. Big, empty, kinda cold. You: floor, bedding, and two is always more body heat than one. Since you wouldn't come up…" Shego figured the conclusion was obvious.

"But…if that's…Shego, I thought you were straight!"

"Am I?" The ebony-haired woman pushed herself to a sitting position in the bedding.

"Aren't you?"

"Don't remember, Pumpkin." She tapped the side of her head. "And damn if it isn't still frustrating."

"You don't reme—what?"

Now it was Shego's turn to be confused. "What, what?"

"You just called me Pumpkin…" Kim's voice was hopeful, almost breathless. She'd gone from confused to excited in about two seconds flat, and it kind of unnerved Shego.

"Did I?"

"Yeah…" Kim dropped to her knees before lunging forward, throwing her arms around Shego's neck and squeezing.

Stunned at first, Shego slowly returned the show of affection, hugging Kim to herself. _Mission: Get In Bed accomplished,_ she thought. _Now…why was it so important to me?_

A light sniffle broke Shego out of her thoughts in time to allow Kim to pull away and wipe a tear out of the corner of each eye. "Sorry…" she whispered, before clearing her throat. "You used to call me that almost all the time. I just got excited."

"If I get that kind of reaction every time, I'm gonna try harder at this remembering thing," Shego returned with a smirk. She was rewarded by Kim blushing again, but the smaller girl looked away sadly after a moment.

"…We should get downstairs, let Mom and Dad know we're awake," she said finally. Shego wondered what the sudden melancholy mood was for, but didn't get a chance to ask before Kim stood up and exited the room. Shrugging, Shego picked up the pajama pants she'd discarded during the night and slid into them before following Kim down, wondering just how much Kim might have enjoyed it if she'd known Shego hadn't had them on.

--

By the time they arrived downstairs, Kim was all smiles again; Shego's desire to remember more—and thus, remember their old animosity—paled beside the fact that she actually _had_ remembered something—namely, one of her old nicknames for Kim. The more she thought on it, the more she realized it could have been a fluke (how difficult could it be to come up with that nickname, given the color of Kim's hair?), but it didn't matter. For the moment, she was happy for even the smallest perceived bit of recovery. Shego excused herself to use the restroom, and Kim stepped into the kitchen and waved a greeting to her parents, a small, satisfied smile on her face.

Anne noticed the smile first, and she paled a bit as she thought, _They couldn't have…could they?_ "…Morning, Kimmie," she said as calmly as she could. "Why the smile?"

"She remembered my nickname," Kim said, almost dreamily.

Relief flooded Anne, and she felt somewhat guilty for it…but, she admitted to herself, honestly, she wasn't ready for that kind of reality quite yet. "That's good," she said encouragingly. "Anything else yet?"

"She remembered that I was a cheerleader," Kim said after a moment, taking that time to think over the night previous. "I think that's it—at least, that's all that she told me."

Anne smiled reassuringly at her daughter. "Well, I don't think I need to tell you that in cases of amnesia, anything is better than nothing."

Kim nodded. "Yeah…I can't help but worry that she's going to remember us fighting or something next…and then what? What do I tell her?"

Anne's expression grew serious. "That is your decision, Kimmie, since you are so bent on taking responsibility for this—a fact which makes me both proud and worried. If and when that time comes, you'll have to choose what to tell her—the truth, which would be best, or a…modified version if you feel the truth would be dangerous to her." She didn't enjoy telling her child to think of a little white lie, just in case...but amnesia patients were fragile during their recovery, and Anne didn't want to risk adding any damage to what was already there.

"How do I know which to choose?" Kim almost pleaded.

"You may just have to think…were your positions reversed, what do you think she would do for you?"

Kim was saved from having to answer right away by Shego herself entering the kitchen. She waved a greeting to Anne. "Morning, Doc."

"Good morning," Kim's mother replied courteously. "How're you feeling this morning?"

There was a…knowing tone in her mother's voice that made Kim glance at her curiously; Anne, however, was watching Shego, and paid Kim no mind.

"Great," Shego answered honestly. "If you don't count the frustration factor."

"I'm told that's normal for amnesia. Just take things slowly. Kimmie told me you remembered her cheerleading last night."

"Yeah," Shego agreed, sliding into the booth seat across from Anne while Kim stood next to her. Part of Anne's mind registered the distance—or lack thereof—between the two, but she saved the fact for later.

"It was weird," Shego went on. "I was thinking about something, and then whoosh—I had like a four-second snippet of something else. It looked like Kim showing off in a fast-food place." She looked up at the girl. "Do you _always_ backflip off of serving counters?"

Kim blinked. _But…that was like the first or second time we fought…does she not remember being the one fighting me?_ "No," she answered slowly. "Just that once. It was a mission thing."

"Mission thing? What's that mean?"

"It's a long story," Kim said evasively. She felt bad about not answering, but she didn't want the reality of her missions to ruin the fragile peace that existed between them at the moment. _Maybe when we're not at home…I can tell her later._

Shego could tell Kim was hiding her real answer—again, with the infuriating question of _how_ she could tell—but she put it aside for now. Seeing Kim clam up in thought, she turned back to the girl's parents, focusing on the father. "So, are you a doctor too?"

James took a second to answer; he looked like he was trying to decide if she were playing him or not. "Yes, I am," he said finally. "I'm just not a _medical_ doctor like Anne is." The pride in his voice was evident as he patted his wife's elbow, and she smiled at him. "I work at the Space Center a few miles north of here."

"Ah. So for you, everything _is_ rocket science."

"You betcha," he answered, smiling. Apparently his doubts were just…gone. "Matter of fact, we've got a launch scheduled for about a week from now. Which reminds me," he continued suddenly, looking at his watch. "I'd better scoot now before Ray adds another zero to my numbers." He rose, kissed Anne on the cheek, and was out the door in under ten seconds.

"Bye, Dad," Kim called dryly. The other two chuckled.

A faint "Bye, Kimmie-Cub!" could be heard as James' station wagon rolled down the driveway.

"So, what are you two to up to today?" Anne asked a moment later.

"Well…" Kim began. "Shego can stay for a while, right?" When her mother nodded, she continued, "So I was going to take her shopping for some extra clothes…she doesn't have anything more than what she left the hospital with, and she won't fit in most of my own clothes. Her…it's…she's just…_bigger_ than me."

The way she had her arms folded under her breasts and her head turned to one side, blushing, told both Shego and Anne _exactly_ what Kim meant. Shego smirked as she slid over in the booth to put an arm around Kim's waist and pulled her close.

"Hey, some of us got it, and some don't, and that's okay," she said, the smirk turning into a full-blown sly grin as Kim didn't resist…though her blush did intensify at the contact, and she did tense up.

Anne cleared her throat, and both girls looked back at her, though Shego didn't release her hold on Kim. "That sounds like a good idea, Kim," she said, making note that neither girl protested the contact. Then again, Kim didn't relax, either. "Just make sure to be home before eight; your brothers will be coming home then, and I'd rather they didn't blow up the house. Again."

Kim nodded. "We'll be here."

--

Shopping with an amnesiac Shego, Kim found, was every bit as fun as shopping with a mind-altered Shego had been…in a different way.

Whereas Miss Go, Shego's too-nice alter ego, had simply treated the Middleton Mall like a place of wonderment, her almost childlike excitement making the time pass quickly, Shego as herself was cynically, sarcastically entertaining. Quietly disparaging remarks were the order of the day, especially when they walked by some of the more…eclectic storefronts. More than once Kim couldn't help but giggle at the comments Shego made, in spite of the fact that Shego herself essentially didn't let Kim free from her grip. At all.

The day passed quickly. Even as Kim found herself having fun, though, it was still tinged with a feeling of melancholy. She'd taken pains during the day to put herself in situations that might have provoked some familiar teasing—in one accessory store she'd even put a tiara on her head for a moment, but Shego had simply shaken her head. Kim had been hoping it might trigger something, even if it was only the other common nickname Shego had for her, but the word "Princess" failed to cross Shego's lips.

Still, the day wasn't a total waste. Without the effects of a mind-control device, Shego was free to act as herself, and Kim could easily spot the hints of her usual personality. However, without the memories, there was also not the burden of their opposite histories between them. It was a…confusing dichotomy for the teen hero, made all the more so by Shego's apparent decision that they were bosom buddies—at the very least. Sometimes her more suggestive or personal remarks made Kim think that the green woman possibly considered them more than that.

Kim was of two minds on the issue. Part of her screamed out the wrongsickness of it all—Shego was, after all, Kim's enemy. Guilty feelings or no, fraternizing with the enemy was madness.

On the other hand, her guilty conscience was telling her to suck it up and bear with it until Shego got her head back. That included playing along with anything Shego considered "normal" until then—including pretending to be the woman's best friend. _Or more…can I do that? Can I act like…like a…like a girlfriend? To another girl?_

The facts that she hadn't run screaming, or shoved Shego's hands away, or told her off…those facts suggested that yes, indeed she could. And it weirded her out a little.

Her internal debate came to a screeching halt when the two shoppers entered the food court and ran into two people Kim was completely not expecting to see: Ron, and her best gal pal Monique Dawkins.

To say that Kim's friends were a bit shocked at the sight would be an understatement. Here was their best friend with her absolute nemesis clinging possessively to her waist while, stranger still, Kim looked torn between returning the gesture and looking uncomfortable.

Monique thought fast. She _had_ to get the story behind this one, because the whole setup was even weirder than when the green woman had been their teacher for a week. As the two approached, she stood up and waved them closer.

As soon as they entered conversation range Monique shouted, "Kim! GF, I am _so_ glad to see you! Naco Boy here ain't finished with his lunch and I need to run to the little girls' room. You, girl, are coming with." She emphasized her point by clamping on to Kim's free arm.

Confused, Kim only nodded. As Monique dragged her off she turned to the equally startled Shego and said, "Be nice to Ron!" And then they were out of hearing range, Kim stumbling along behind her determined friend as they banged through the restroom door.

Monique released Kim's arm from her iron grip, folded her own arms across her chest, and fixed Kim with her best Look. "Okay, Kim. Spill."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh-uh." The African-American girl waved a finger at Kim. "Don't you be givin' me the ignorant thing. What's with you and Green Girl?"

"Shego?" Kim swallowed. "She…I…uh…" Try as she might, though, Kim couldn't get the words out.

Monique watched her friend become increasingly agitated. "Okay, Kim. Keep it simple. Why's she hangin' on you like an affectionate barnacle?"

"I…I don't know, Mo," Kim answered, wringing her hands. "I think she thinks we're a…a couple or something."

"Mmhmm. And why would she do that when a week ago you were tryin' to kill each other like normal?"

Kim winced at the end of the phrase, something which gave Monique pause.

"Almost…"

"What, Kim?" Monique leaned in closer.

"I almost _did_." Kim's troubled green eyes shone with gathering tears. "I almost _killed_ her, Mo! Again!"

Monique, of the opinion that she clearly hadn't heard correctly, waved her hands in a "rewind" motion. "Whoah, there, GF. Exactly _how_ did you almost do this? And twice, no less?"

Kim marched over to a paper towel dispenser, grabbed a sheet, and blew her nose. Returning to in front of her friend, she spoke in low tones. "The first was back in high school—the whole Li'l Diablos thing." Monique's nod spurred her on. "Then a few days ago we were fighting, and she teased me about me an' Ron, and I overreacted and threw her across the room and her head—oh, God, Mo, her head!"

Monique hurried to comfort her friend, who looked like she was making a herculean effort to not break down…and mostly succeeding. After a few moments of sniffling and wiping her eyes, Kim continued.

"She hit the edge of a bench, Mo, and it almost broke her neck. Instead it cracked her head open…and now she can't remember anything."

Monique stepped back, holding Kim at arm's length. "She's got amnesia?" she clarified, and Kim nodded. "Well, that's better than dead, right?" Again, Kim nodded, getting herself back under control.

"She…she's remembered some things," the hero sniffed, "but I think she's remembering them the wrong way. Like she remembered me being a cheerleader, and one of the nicknames she always used for me." Something very much like a fond smile graced Kim's lips for a moment. "I tried to get her to remember the other one earlier today, but it didn't work so well."

The black beauty narrowed her eyes. "Nicknames? Were you two going out _before_ all this, anyway?"

"What?!" Kim's indignant squawk almost made Monique crack up laughing; she still couldn't help but smile.

"Chill, GF. I was kidding. Still, though…why is she so attached to you know?"

"Like I said, I think she's remembering them wrong."

Monique thought for a moment. "Is she remembering wrong, or just not remembering everything?"

"What do you mean?" Kim's confusion was evident.

"Think of it this way: if you were in her shoes…and you remembered your encounters except for fighting…what would you think?" Monique watched expectantly as Kim thought it through.

And think it through Kim did. Monique had a point; if she had only a snippet of her and Shego's past encounters to rely on, and none of them had to do with fighting each other…

The rising blush on Kim's already-ruddy cheeks told Monique she'd hit the mark. "You see what I'm sayin' now? If you two weren't tryin' to beat the hell out of each other, you could forgive people for thinkin' you two were an item. And that's probably what Shego's doin'."

With a sigh, Kim nodded.

"So what are _you_ gonna do about it?"

"Huh?" Kim said again.

"What. Are you. Going to do. About Shego. Acting like your SO?" She had to make sure to break it down in chunks Kim could comprehend.

The blush returned to Kim's face, but the steely Possible determination returned to her eyes, as well, and for the first time in a few days Kim felt…_confident_.

"I'm going along with it," she said evenly. "At least, until Shego remembers everything."

Monique eyed her sideways. "…You sure about that, girl?"

"Surer than I have been since I did this to her."

"And how long will you keep it up? How far will you go?"

"Until she remembers _everything_," Kim repeated. "And we'll figure it out from there. It may go back to normal between us, it may not. We'll see."

"And if that includes one of you walking down the aisle to the other on your wedding day?"

_That_ was a mental image Kim was less than prepared for, and she swallowed again at the thought. _Could_ she withstand marrying Shego, if this current sitch called for it? _Could_ she, in good conscience, basically sequester herself with her enemy for the rest of her life?

Could Kim Possible, hero, stomach the idea of essentially partnering herself at every intimate level with Shego, villain, and her archnemesis?

_Whether I can or not right now doesn't matter. This is something I have to do_.

"Then I guess you'd better make room for another 'GF,' Mo," Kim said in utter seriousness.

Monique turned back to face her head-on. She searched her best female friend's eyes but could only see the kind of iron will that Kim had exhibited in the past…and the redhead's natural stubbornness wasn't something to take lightly.

She sighed. "You're sure about this, Kim." It wasn't a question.

"I almost _killed_ her, Mo. And for now I've certainly ruined her life. It's the least I can do. The least I _need_ to do."

"Then it sounds like you're sure." She laid a hand on Kim's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Look, girl; you know you're my BFGF and we're tight and all that, so believe me when I tell you that this is _really_ weird, even for you. _But_, I'm gonna stay behind you a hundred percent on this one. I think you're way over-obsessing and stressing yourself out over this colossal guilt trip you laid on yourself, but I can see why you did it. And as your friend I will stick by you through this."

Kim smiled gently. "Even if I ask you to be maid of honor?"

That earned a chuckle from her dark-skinned friend. "Even if you ask me to be the maid of honor. Girl, if you don't, I'm gonna tan your ass so hard you'll look like me by the end of the day."

Kim giggled, then pulled Monique into a hug. "Thank you _so_ much for understanding, Mo. You're the best."

"I know," she answered, patting Kim's back. "Now wash your face and let's think up something for when we get back out so it doesn't look like you cried."

Once back out in the food court proper, the two friends rejoined their respective shopping mates. Astonishingly, it looked like the two had actually been civil to each other…but as Ron blurted out as they arrived, it was mostly because they'd spent the last several minutes basically pretending the other didn't exist.

Kim raised an eyebrow at Shego, who shrugged noncommittally in return. "I was a bit creeped out by his little pink thing," she replied, then raised an eyebrow in return as Kim blushed heavily before bursting out laughing. _Hmm. She's got a nice laugh…_

"Sorry, sorry," Kim said after calming down. "That's Rufus, Ron's naked mole rat."

"Uh _huh_." Shego eyed the rodent with something approaching disgust.

Any further conversation was interrupted by Kim's pocket ringing. She sighed as she pulled out her old Kimmunicator, its distinctive four-note, two-tone theme repeating itself endlessly until she stabbed the respond button. She never noticed Shego's subtle twitching every time the theme played. "Go, Wade," she said morosely.

"Got a hit on the site, Kim," the boy genius announced through the device, the telltale clacking noise indicating he was bringing information to bear for her. "There's a break-in reported at a high-energy physics lab in Indiana; right now they're not sure what might be missing, but it's only a matter of time. The attacker used all _kinds_ of force to get in there. Sounds like Drakken or Dementor to me. I can get you th—"

"No."

The word was soft, but it stopped everyone cold.

Kim was standing with her head bowed, staring at the tops of her shoes as she clearly grappled with a decision.

"What?" Wade's voice brought them back to reality. "Kim, they asked for you. Just wait there, I'll get you a ride—"

"I said no," she interrupted again.

"Kim…Global Justice has already said they can't dispatch any agents to the area." Wade's voice sounded confused. Kim couldn't tell; she wasn't looking at the device.

She was looking at Shego.

"I don't care," she answered. "These emergencies happened before I started helping, and they'll keep happening after I'm done. Let the police handle it for a change."

"But Kim--!"

"I said _no!_" she snarled, finally glaring at the Kimmunicator; then, ashamed of her reaction, she went back to looking at the floor.

Wade decided to try one last time. "Come on, Kim. They asked for your help. Are you going to run away from that?"

"I can't risk it," she retorted, her voice small once more.

"Can't risk what?"

"I can't risk hurting anyone else like that. I _won't_ risk it. And I _know_ you know what I mean." With that, she shut off the little blue box.

The other three stared at her, wide-eyed—except for Shego, who simply stared levelly at her.

"Kim, are you sure about that?" Ron asked. He was aware that the sitch wasn't exactly normal right now, but to have Kim turn down a mission that violently? It was more than he was expecting.

"Absolutely sure," she replied. Then, having a sudden inspiration strike, she tossed the Kimmunicator at him, and he caught it easily. "Why don't you go take care of it?"

He looked at the device, then back at Kim…and then he nodded, turning to Monique. "You wanna tag along?" he asked.

With a quick glance at her friend, Monique turned back to Ron and nodded. "I think it'd be best if I did," she answered. "C'mon, Monkey Boy." Waving at Kim, the two departed, and Kim could hear the chatter as Ron got back in contact with Wade.

She started when another hand landed on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Shego now standing behind her, eyebrows raised.

"Want to go home, Pumpkin?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"Sure," Kim replied quietly, hefting the bags they'd already managed to collect.

--

The ride home was mostly silent, as was the house when the two entered. Kim announced her intention to take a nap, and Shego insisted on throwing their new purchases in the laundry. By the time the amnesiac thief returned to the front room of the house, Kim was already laid out on the reddish couch with her eyes closed. Shego half-smiled and moved the teen's feet so she could sit there, too, moving them back to her lap once she was situated. She looked over at Kim and smiled a bit, impressed at the iron will the younger girl had displayed back at the mall in spite of the prodding she'd undergone. "You're really something, you know that?" she murmured—

—"_You think you're all that, Kim Possible, but you're not!"_

_The nasal, petulant whining somehow managed to cut through even the dull booming of an exploding building in the background; the voice's owner, a man whose skin was tinted a light blue, was suspended by the back of his laboratory jumpsuit on a nearby signpost, hanging thirty feet off the ground, while away from the explosions strode Kim herself—_

The brief eruption of sounds and images in her head froze Shego's ability to think for a few seconds more after it finished, but she regained her senses before her sudden paralysis woke Kim from her nap. She knew the teen would've picked up on how spontaneously tense her muscles had become.

_Just…how the _hell_ do I know that I know that?_

Again casting a look at the sleeper, Shego decided to take the opportunity to let her mind wander a bit and maybe dredge up some more of those random flashes. She leaned her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, not really seeing it as she considered all that had happened since she'd woken up.

That most recent…remembrance was actually slightly thrilling. For as much as it looked like something out of an action movie, the fact remained that Kim looked _quite_ badass from that perspective…and since Shego figured it was a memory and not a daydream, that meant she'd been at the perfect angle to see the cheerleader stalking away from the blasts, the glow from the fires almost exactly matching the shade of Kim's hair, smudged soot marks on her face emphasizing the stern expression she wore…

A slight giggle escaped Shego as she felt herself get pleasantly tingly at her excitement over Kim in the mental picture.

The redhead cracked one eye open at the noise. "You okay there?"

"Go back to sleep, Kimmie."

Kim smiled briefly before closing her eye again.

Shego had to wonder at her good fortune. Whatever had caused her accident, she'd ended up in the care of someone bound and determined to shepherd her back to her usual self…and from what she'd remembered so far, there was _definitely_ something between herself and Kim that had existed from before. Shego was pretty confident she was making strides back in that direction even now; after all, her first urge after waking up and remembering absolutely nothing, had been to gather Kim up in a hug and wipe the tears away.

Based on the couple of slivers of memory she'd gotten back already, too, Shego figured Kim wasn't of the crying type. _It's not like she can…stalk away from a burning, exploding building, keeping a straight face, and then turn around and be all weepy, without there being something wrong with her…or if this, with me, was something major. _Idly she began to stroke Kim's leg with her hand, the well-manicured nails dragging gently along the material of the hero's jeans.

Kim opened her eye again, catching Shego staring aimlessly at her foot while a small smile was on her face and her hand was on Kim's shin. She didn't appear to have seen the smaller girl wake.

Kim's chest was tight. The whole sitch was moving beyond the weird and into the sick and wrong. _I don't even think I've ever seen her smile like that. And she's totally feeling up my leg!_

In spite of her earlier words to Monique, Kim wasn't at _all_ sure that going along with Shego was a good idea. The pale woman appeared to think that they were an item. While Kim wouldn't have minded having her as a friend—though the feeling had dampened a bit up to and including her last mission—what she saw now went so far beyond that it dinged right up against the top of the weirdness scale.

Closing her eye before Shego could see her awake again, Kim thought.

--

Later that night, the Kimmunicator rang its telltale chime again.

Kim and Shego were both in Kim's room again, changing for bed. Kim had insisted they at least change on opposite sides of the room, and it was thanks to that decision that Shego was actually closer to the device. She swept it up, thumbing the same button she'd seen Kim use earlier in the day. "Yo," she said simply.

"Hey Ki—uh." Wade was clearly running on automatic, for when he turned toward the screen in the middle of his usual greeting, he completely stumbled over his words.

"Kimmie's a little busy at the moment, so if you'd like to leave a message, too bad." She made to shut off the Kimmunicator, but Kim stopped her and snatched the device away, an amused look in her eyes even as she told the taller girl off.

"What now, Wade?" Kim asked as she brought it around in front of herself.

--

"What now, Wade?"

The young hacker extraordinaire swallowed nervously as he watched Kim's tired-looking face fill his main monitor. All around him, his electronic fortress produced enough light for him to see quite nicely, which was why his room always looked so dark; the overhead lights remained off, allowing for the harsher, more artificial light from the numerous monitors to illuminate the area.

It also conveniently hid the nervous sweat he knew dotted his forehead from one particular monitor, on which the stern, silent, eyepatched visage of one Doctor Elizabeth Director, J.D., watched the encounter between him and the teen hero. Wade didn't have to ask to know she was watching his performance...and that it would be his turn for some explaining if Kim failed to take another mission.

"Uh," he began, then coughed once, striving to look natural in spite of his quaking insides. "There was another mission that came up—humanitarian, this time," he said hastily. He watched Kim's face begin to darken as he spoke. "They contacted the site looking for any able-bodied volunteers to help evacuate a hospital…"

--

"…evacuate a hospital in a flood zone in southeast Asia. Waters are rising fast, it's monsoon season, all that. I've got a ride on the way—"

"No more," Kim growled at him.

"Kim, come on! They're desperate!" The near-panic in Wade's voice intrigued Shego, who crawled over the bed in her new nightie and dropped her chin on Kim's shoulder to watch, and was rewarded with Wade blinking repeatedly in apparent confusion.

Kim, though, apparently didn't hear that panic. "I said no more," she repeated, her voice deep. Shego could feel Kim shaking, whatever she was feeling causing her muscles to tense to an unhealthy degree.

"But—!"

"Wade!" Kim interrupted, this time only barely managing to restrain from shouting, "give it to Ron. For now, I'm done. I'm off. The team is his."

"But why?!"

"Because." She reached up her free hand and touched Shego's cheek. "I'm not yet finished with my last mission."

--

A/N: Oh, wow. I totally had no idea the last time I updated this was almost A YEAR AGO. Profound apologies to anyone who might still read this.

Mad props to Love Robin for, once again, being a veritable wellspring of awesome ideas.


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